The Whole World Blind
by HecateA
Summary: There's nothing quite like a mother's love. Or the way a mother cuts out your eye. Oneshot. Rating is for language.


**HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY! I could do something cheesy and sweet over on the Parenthood Drabbles, or I could have talked about all the mother-_like _figures in the world (like Grandmother Zhang, Lupa, etc) but here's a weird kind of examination of a complicated mother-child relation that Riordan hinted at for us; that of Ethan Nakamura and the mother who took his eye. This is a bunch of concepts pulled together, so I hope that it reads well. Note that the Lou Ellen here isn't the same Lou Ellen as the one from other stories. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters portrayed below, and I can't say that any of the medical information came from a doctor.**

**Dedication: I'd say 'to my mother' but she barely registers that I write fanfiction, and this isn't her kind of thing...**

* * *

**The Whole World Blind**

* * *

**Transpupillary thermotherapy**

"It will save him, yes? Save his eye?"

"Yes sir. This kind of therapy works very well for small tumours," the pediatric oncologist said reassuringly. "Ethan's a prime candidate for treatment."

Tanaka repositioned his son against his hip. The baby boy was making a grab for his glasses again, along with all the squeaking sounds.

"When can he start?"

* * *

**Blurred Vision**

"Ethan's a good kid," the teacher said. "My only concern is his reading problems."

"He is dyslexic," Tanaka said. "We have had diagnosis for long time."

"Even then sir, his progress seems to have slowed. He was even doing better in math until the last month or so. He squints in class, even if he sits in the front row in each of his classes. Do you think that Ethan should perhaps see an eye doctor?"

Tanaka's blood froze.

What had the doctor said about the eye cancer? That it was... remissive? He couldn't remember the word, but he remembered the motion.

"Yes. Yes, I will bring him to doctor soon."

* * *

**Ocular Melanoma**

"Ethan," Kelly His Favourite Nurse said. "You've got a visitor."

Ethan sat up in bed. "Dad said that he'd be out for-"

"It's not your dad, sweet pea. She says you've met, though. I'll be right next door if you need me."

The hair on the back of Ethan's neck stood up straight even before he saw for sure who was there.

"Mother," he said coldly.

She pushed her hair over her shoulder. Dad said that Nemesis always looked like the person you resented the most, so nobody saw her the exact same way. To Ethan's grandpa, she'd looked like his first school teacher, back in Imperial Japan, the one who'd once made him clean the entire class with a toothpick for sneezing during the national anthem. To Ethan's dad, she'd looked like a woman named Amy Tenniel who had petitioned to get Dad fired on accounts of her failing grades being due to the teacher's accent. Ethan must be one of the only people in the world to see her as she truly was.

It pissed him off that she could probably be classified as a pretty woman. Her hair was cut short and choppy, glossy like a piano, which emphasised her long and graceful neck and figure. She was na narrowly built woman, to the point where she could probably look sickly to those who didn't know she was immortal. Her eyes were a dullish green, like raw emerald. She wore a black dress and a blazer, as if she'd just walked out of an important meeting in an important building.

"You were here when you were a baby," she said looking at the hospital walls.

"I wasn't a baby, I was five years old," Ethan said. He could have added that she, as his mother, should know this.

"Do you remember?" Nemesis asked.

"No."

"Then you were a baby," she said. She cocked her head. "Is it the left or the right?"

Ethan shifted.

"It's my right eye."

"Mmm. Again. And?"

"And what?" Ethan asked.

"How are you?"

"I have eye cancer," Ethan said.

"I suppose," Nemesis said. Ethan hated talking to her with a burning passion. Between her horrible conversation ability and Dad's slow English, Ethan didn't know how they'd gotten past 'hello', much less to making him.

Besides. Dad didn't deserve her. Or she didn't deserve Dad. Whatever- Ethan's dad was too good for this. It made Ethan feel horrible about being sick.

"What are they talking about as far as treatment?" Nemesis asked.

"They don't know," Ethan said. "Maybe radiotherapy some more."

He had something called internal radiotherapy going for him. They'd installed something called a plaque (basically a small disc) over the tumour in his eyeball and it was currently dishing out radiation to try and get rid of the tumour. An internal radiotherapy implant, it was called. Ethan's grandfather had freaked out when Dad had explained it to him- to him, radiotherapy was what had gotten his entire family sick after the atomic bombs were dropped on Japan during WWII- which hadn't exactly made Ethan feel better about, you know, having cancer. He didn't get much company while the the implant did its work, since exposure to radiation was a health hazard to anyone who'd visit. He knew that his dad would sleep at his side anyways if the doctors let him.

"That won't work," she said conversationally.

Ethan felt like calling a nurse on her and having her thrown out and blacklisted. Really Mom? He'd been in and out of hospitals but definitely out of touch with everyone in his life for months, trying to shake this parrasite growing on his eye and sucking in all the other nutriments that his body needed and whatnot. This wasn't what he wanted to hear- especially from someone who'd just dropped in like she had, like she always had.

"Pardon?" Ethan asked.

"Radiotherapy? Waste of time." Nemesis said casually.

_And money,_ Ethan thought to himself. Dad always said not to worry, not to worry about the money; but how could Ethan not?

"So what?" Ethan asked impatiently. "Cancer spreads to my brain and lungs and I die?"

"I didn't say that either," Nemesis said.

"I'm tired," Ethan said reaching over to the pump for his pain medication. "It's the radiation. Leave me alone."

He gave the pump a squeeze. Of course the meds weren't instantaneous and so he was still present enough to see Nemesis roll her eyes.

"You have no idea what's going on, do you?"

"No. The doctors talk to Dad. I know that the cancer's not going away, that's it." Ethan said.

"Do you know what they're planning to do about it?" Nemesis asked.

"No."

"Have you asked?"

"It makes Dad nervous when I ask questions."

But he had been on Google despite Dad not liking him using the computer either.

Armed with the name of the tumour _-uveal melanoma-_ he'd raided the internet. He knew where his tumour was growing and how exactly they had figured out he had it. He also knew that it was rare, since this type of cancer usually started on the skin? Something like that. Ethan was confused.

He also knew that he had several tumours of several different types lounging around his eye, and that that wasn't good at all.

"I'll tell you what," Nemesis asked. "I'll heal the cancer."

Ethan had a heart attack.

"You'll what?"

"The doctors didn't run that battery of tests this morning for nothing," Nemesis said. "They're taking your abdominal pain seriously. Your father is trying to soften the blow- your night sweats are a lot worst than you think... but they think the cancer may have spread to your liver."

Ethan swore.

"Language."

"You're telling me that I may have liver cancer but that I can't swear?" Ethan said. He flopped down on his pillow and took a deep breath.

He wasn't usually like this. Usually he told the nurses jokes. He Skyped with friends and even his old ancient history class. He played games online and perfected his paper plane folding and tried to be as low maintenance as he could for the overworked staff. He took classes by correspondance to keep his grades as high as he could in hopes of one day going to Harvard or Princeton or Yale. He sent letters to penpals from other hospitals, third world countries and even death row to pass the time and make everyone else a bit less bored and lonely. He signed online petitions to change the world until he could go back out there and do something great. When he wasn't radioactive or too tired to budge, he volunteered in the hospital and drew pictures with the little kids, or participated in telethons and whatnot. He and Dad joked that they were 'out for dinner' and then ate burgers on this app that Ethan had on his tablet, and then they'd watch a baseball game on the hospital TV before remembering that neither of them were stereotypical American men and geeking out over something on the history channel, or one of the documentaries that Dad showed in his classes.

He dealt with the loneliness.

He let the nurses check all of his stuff's radiation levels routinely.

He was okay with everyone staying a certain distance of his bed, and his bed sometimes being surrounded by lead screens.

He was positive.

He tried to make the best of things.

But today he was tired and sore, his eye hurt like Hades, his mouth was dry no matter how much he drank, he had a headache and he was not down for any of it.

"I'm telling you that you need to listen," Nemesis said. "You know who I am. You know that I work with balance."

"Go away," Ethan said.

"You know," she continued, "that that notion doesn't come out of nowhere. That the entire world is a question of balance; that it makes the world go round."

"You're not even a doctor, you shouldn't be telling me things like-"

"Ethan," she said. "I have to follow the rules even more than the other gods but if you deliver payment, I can use my power to help you. If you want me to heal you, if you want to get out of this hospital and go into the real world to change it for the best- I can help you. You just need to say yes."

"No," Ethan said. "No, I can't let you do that. Because if you really could, if you really wanted to, you would have helped Dad and I a long time ago. There's some catch somewhere. You're the goddess of vengeance, and that's not good. Vengeance is that little green-eyed monster thing for a reason."

"That's jealousy," she noticed.

"You get the point!" Ethan snapped. "I don't want your help."

"Ethan," someone said. He jumped in his bed and turned to look at the door. Dad stood there. He must have finished his class early and come straight from the university. He still wore his blazer, his trousers and his dress shoes. The satchel was still thrown over his shoulder and the button-down was still buttoned to the throat.

"Dad you were supposed to spend the night at home," Ethan said.

"Ethan listen to your mother," he said. "I know… I know that she is not easy woman to trust. But you must. She not lying. The doctors think you getting worst. I think they right. You not acting like yourself lately, you sicker."

He let his head drop on his pillow.

"You don't have to speak English just because she's there, Dad," Ethan said in spitfire, quick and bitter Japanese, hoping that Nemesis couldn't speka Japanese or at least not well enough to catch up.

"Ethan I love you," Dad said. "I'm scared for you. I want you to be better, I want you to go back to school and playing video games until early morning on school nights and eating a full pizza to yourself and volunteering left and right and dreaming about Nobel prizes or dramatic speeches and sleeping until noon on Sundays until it smells like bacon and eggs. I want you to be healthy."

Ethan looked away.

"You said that if you were to heal me," Ethan told Nemesis, "I'd have to deliver payment one day. What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that one day I'll take something from you," she said.

"What will it be?"

"I don't know," she said.

"It won't be him?" Ethan asked quietly looking at his dad.

Nemesis shook her head. "I wouldn't dream of it."

"You would," Ethan said. "You're twisted enough for it. Will it have anything to do with the war outside?"

Nemesis cocked an eyebrow.

"I'm still in contact with that daughter of Hecate, Lou," Ethan said. "I know what's going on out there, with the gods and the titans. Have you picked a side? Is that it?"

"No," Nemesis said. "But when I do, you can bet a lot of money that you'll be fighting on it."

"Will that be my payment?" Ethan said.

"Maybe it'll be mine," Nemesis said. "What do you say, Ethan? I make you great. You pay later."

Ethan was quiet for a second, but he wasn't really mulling it over. Dad had told him to get the help he could. Dad had said that he was worried. Of course Ethan was going to fix himself up.

"Okay. Okay, I accept," Ethan said. "I'll pay your debt. You make me better. The best."

* * *

**Enucleation of the Eye**

"This is bull," Ethan declared.

Nemesis, sitting on the edge of his bed, shrugged. Today she wore her hair pinned up and a sensible pant suit type contraption.

"You took my eye," he said.

"The surgeon did." Nemesis said, examining her polished green nails.

"Save it," Ethan snapped. "I didn't suddenly get cleared for surgery one day when a world-renowned surgeon is in town for a convention. Not barely a week after making that promise to you. This is your doing. You took my eye. That's how you're going to make me better?"

"It's going to work," Nemesis said. "The doctors will declare you cancer free in precisely three-"

"Bull!" Ethan repeated.

"Quiet down; the nurses think you're sleeping."

Ethan crossed his arms over his chest and tried to calm down. He wasn't usually this... this angry. This bitter. This potty-mouthed... but then again, that was his mother's specialty, wasn't it?

"They'll implant an ocular prosthetes in if you're worried about the look," Nemesis said. "And if not, you can keep the patch that you're wearing now."

"I was going to lose that eye to cancer anyways," Ethan said.

"Yes, but I made sure that you wouldn't lose anything else," Nemesis said standing. "And think about all the time you've gained. All the things you'll do... it will be marvelous, Ethan."

Ethan swallowed hard. He couldn't say anything to that. He _did _have things to do. He did have plans for greatness. He'd just needed to survive that cancer first. Now he was on his way and... well, wether he liked it or not, it was thanks to his mother.

"Your father will be here in a few minutes. I should go before he does. Best that he keeps believing in miracles, I think. Oh, and Ethan?"

"Yes?"

"If you're going to be mad, remember that we made a deal," Nemesis said. "An eye for an eye, yes? Or an eye for a future, whichever way you like."

"You could've let me die. If I'd been this bad when I was five, you wouldn't have bothered saving me. This has to do with the war outside," Ethan said.

"Of course," Nemesis said. "What makes greatness more than a great war?"

He couldn't reply. Historically speaking, she had a point.

"There's a reason you beat high scores in games and read history books to find out who wins the war. Well now, you get to see how you fit in. Pun unintended"

* * *

**Phantom Eye Syndrome**

30% of patients reported seeing things with an eye that wasn't there. Hallucinations. Shapes and colours and sometimes clear objects. 26% of patients said that they felt painful sensations where their eye used to be.

Gods did Ethan hate being in the percentage.

He couldn't sleep, of course, so he wandered the Princess Andromeda instead.

He didn't curse Nemesis for the pains and Charles Bonnet Syndrome- things had fallen into place after she'd taken his eye. Ethan had met Luke Castellan at school on his first week back, and he'd given him the most detailed history of Olympus he'd ever gotten- complete with novel ideas and new perspectives, all of which included a child of a minor goddess like Ethan.

The ship was great. Ethan had his own room, one that he didn't have to share with his father's pedagogical material. The ship's library was enormous, with a generous history section to boot- usually with a child of Athena (or presumed child of Athena) nearby to have a chat with. There was more than enough food without a grocery bill to worry about.

He'd learned how to sword fight, was one of the best duelers on the ship (which always made people wonder how he'd lost his eye- Ethan let them). He was one of the highest classing soldiers in Kronos' army. He'd become the kind of hero that sons of Zeus were, especially thanks to the Battle of the Labyrinth. He was proud of his rank. Proud of himself. And he hoped that Dad was proud of him too, through all the letters that he sent home, hoping that the army's officials didn't censure too much of them. He felt like he could make his dad proud now, anyways.

Besides, his life was at its peak in a million other ways. He had plenty of people to hang out with at all times- he'd stroll into a common room, pop into the lobby, walk into the cafeteria and there was always someone there or a spot at a table for him. Nobody knew about the cancer history so he was always equal to everyone, and he could make up cool stories about how he'd lost his eye involving sharks, jet packs and whatever else he could think of that day (no two people had gotten the same story). He even had brothers and sisters now -Mikaël, Judith, Lavoy... and of course he couldn't believe how lucky he was to be able to trade cheesy pick-up lines and hold hands with Lou Ellen, a daughter of Hecate magic in a million ways.

So the phantom eye symdrome, during which his body flipped out and acted as though there was still an eye in the empty socket? He could handle it.

He was crossing the deck when he heard an arrow slide out of a quiver and hitch onto a bow. He turned around, hands up to show the night guard that he was totally innocent.

"Oh," Butch said. "It's you."

"Sorry man, didn't mean to startle you," Ethan said.

"No problem," he said.

"It's been quiet?"

"Yeah," Butch said. "It always is. That's why I love taking the evening shifts. Pays well too."

"I might start doing that too," Ethan said. "Make some use of the night."

"Trouble sleeping? You can come sit here," Butch said. "It's not that windy tonight. Not too cold either, and you'd think it'd be more humid but it's really not."

Children of Iris could get a bit descriptive about the weather.

Ethan sat next to him, his legs dangling from the side of the Princess Andromeda.

Butch was holding onto the railing. Night guards rarely wore armour like they were supposed to, so Ethan noticed a tattoo on Butch's forearm for the first time.

"Nice ink," he said.

"Not really. It's a rainbow. I know how stupid it looks, the nice ones are on my back. I got this after my dad died," Butch said showing the tattoo which was, in fact, a rainbow. It dropped from the crease of Butch's elbow to his wrist, where a puffy white cloud had been inked. "It was supposed to be a shout-out to my mom, to remind her that she was all I had now and that I needed her to help me out."

"Did it work?" Ethan asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, my mom's great," Butch said. "If it weren't for her I'd have had such a harder time surviving before meeting Luke."

"What did she ask for in exchange?" Ethan asked.

"In exchange?" Butch asked.

"Yeah. Like, she helped you out and you had to give her..?"

"She's my mother," Butch said. "She always just… did it."

Ethan bit his lip and rubbed at his eyepatch. He kept it on despite many halfbloods on the Princess Andromeda bearing much worst wounds. It tricked his opponents into attacking him from that side, thinking he'd be weak. It protected his eyesocket. Reminded him of the reason he was on this ship in the first place.

Even though it would have been nice to have had a favour from his mother once.

* * *

**Orbital Implant**

67, 68, 69...

Hands closed around Ethan's shoulders.

"You look tense," Lou Ellen said. "Gods, I am feeling _so _many knots right now..."

He didn't even have to turn around, he'd recognise the strength and power focused into her fingertips anywhere.

"It's just a look," he said. Her arms slythered to a hug and Ethan awkwardly reached behind him to hug her before turning around. Before he knew it, she had him pinned to the cargo dock's wall, where Ethan was _definitely _not counting ammo for the archers like Luke (who tended to only task the more experienced halfbloods on a bad day) had told him to.

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe I have work to do," Ethan said quietly, tipping his head down nonetheless. Lou Ellen was standing on her tiptoes to even _be _at that level, but it was a really great angle. Ethan could count the freckles on her face and the strands of hair loose from her bun and cut square as her bangs, and the shades of brown and blue and green mixed in her heterochromiatic eyes. That was probably due to the magic bouncing around her system- there were tiny ways to tell. The eyes. The way the freckles wouldn't be at the same place day after day. Her earrings would glow since gold conducted magic like electricity. There was just something about her that made her magic. Or maybe Ethan was just crazy and dopey for her.

She was kissing his jawline. He could practically taste her orange lip balm -at least it _looked _like she was wearing the orange one, please let it be the orange one- as if it traveled through the air by osmosis.

"It did," Lou Ellen said. She pulled back and with a flick of her hand, a supply box zoomed to her hands. Her heals clicked against the ground as she walked back upstairs.

"It was only a joke," Ethan said spreading his arms. "Really I'm not _that _busy!"

"Sure," Lou Ellen said. "I think you just lost count of how many poison ivy arrows we have."

Oops. She was right.

"At least make it worth it!" Ethan begged.

"Later," she called back, heading up the rickedy metal stairs.

"I'm holding you to that!" he said.

"Love you!"

"Love you too."

She was gone. With a sigh, Ethan started counting again hoping not to be interrupted again although he really didn't mind getting ambushed by his girlfriend. It put a smile on his lips as he worked.

"Here," someone said.

His mother, on the other hand...

He turned around and saw Nemesis. She wore armour this time, rough steel armour with implanted alexandrite and malachite and whatever else. She was holding a small purple velvet bag in his direction- nearly like a medieval coin purse. Something round was in it. Something the size of...

"Please don't tell me that that's my eye," Ethan said.

"No," Nemesis said. Notice the lack of 'of course not'. "Open it."

He did. A glass sphere fell into his hand.

"It's a prostheses for your eye," Nemesis said. "You can put it in."

"Does it have powers?" Ethan asked. "Will it give me my vision back?"

"Of course not," Nemesis said. "But it will let you take the eye patch off without attracting attention to your... handicap, do you call it?"

Ethan looked at the glass sphere for a second, and then he slipped it back in the bag.

"No thanks. You can take it back."

Nemesis cocked an eyebrow.

"I lost my eye because you promised that I'd do great things," Ethan said. "I thought about it. To me, great things is exactly what I have here. A sword of my own, a good rank, access to food and shelter and library and medicine. Friends. Siblings. A girlfriend."

"Yes, I saw that," Nemesis said sarcastically.

"But to you, it means something else, 'greatness'. It means restoring the balance of the world, that broken thing you're so focused and mad about." Ethan said. Nemesis didn't counter him. "I didn't do that yet. So I'm going to keep the patch on, so that I always remember that as horrible of a mother as you've been to me, at least you don't mess around. You may be harsh and callous, but you don't lie. You may be unmerciful and hard on me, but so is life. At least you're true. And I'll always remember to hold you to your promise."

"I'm giving you a chance, Ethan. Take the glass eye and you're free of our previous deal. You'll be healthy, the cancer won't come back, and you can go back with your father and hit the mortal world's standart of greatness instead."

"What?" Ethan asked.

"There have been... developments..." Nemesis said.

"Has it been decided that the minor gods will lose the war?" Ethan asked worriedly.

"That I don't know, of course," the goddess clucked her tongue. "But greatness... the greatness I promised you... the balance that you correctly guessed... it comes at a price."

"I know. It's why you took my eye. The proverbial and oh-so-ironic, 'eye for an eye'," Ethan said.

"But maybe an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind," Nemesis said.

"That's unlike your very realm, mother," Ethan said.

"Yes, it is. It's also unlike me to come to care about my children, so you'll also permit me the unlikely suggestion that maybe you paid a price too great for the life you have now," Nemesis said.

"You picked the price."

"Maybe I charged too much," Nemesis said. She still held the glass eye out to him.

Ethan shook his head. "Nothing is worth the life I have now. I wouldn't give it back for the world, I wouldn't give it back just to see again."

Nemesis sighed. "The dead don't see anything, Ethan."

Was she implying that he'd die? No, probably not. No goddess could know _that _much about the future. She was just... getting cold feet about having her children in the army? Yes, that must be it. He'd give Judith and them a heads up later.

Ethan shook his head again. "I've gotten used to not having anything on the left, mother."

Nemesis' fist clenched.

"You said you'd like a favour from your mother," she said. "Last night, on the deck. You said it."

"Maybe I've gotten used not to having that either," Ethan said stubbornly.

Nemesis smashed the glass eye in her palm and threw the velvet bag on the ground. She shook her head and dissapeared.

Where was Ethan at again?

5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10...


End file.
